


till the gravity's too much

by lesblams



Series: Blam Week 2015 [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blam Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4814558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesblams/pseuds/lesblams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Blam Week 2015, Day 3: Lyric Inspired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	till the gravity's too much

Blaine gets an email from Sam in the middle of the evening. He’s not expecting it because Sam hasn’t said anything about it and Sam basically never sends Blaine emails, so he frowns, but opens it immediately.

_hey. made you this. you should listen to it soon then call me. just click on the link and it’ll let you a download a file to make sure all the songs are in order._

Blaine clicks the link below, and everything checks out the way Sam said it would. As the files download, he looks up at Kurt, who’s sitting in the arm chair perpendicular to the couch. Seemingly casual, but there’s just enough space between them for it to be a little weird.

“Sam just made me a mixtape,” Blaine says, hoping Kurt might find it as amusing as he did. Kurt hums, but doesn’t look away from his magazine. Blaine wants to say something, anything, but his computer dings, signaling that his download was complete, and he lets it drop.

He opens the folder that had just appeared in his downloads folder, and sure enough there was a simple file titled with a mix of letters and numbers. He double-clicks it, crossing his fingers that Sam hadn’t just cursed him with some sort of virus (he trusts Sam, most of the time, but he can never be too certain) - but, sure enough, iTunes opens and tells him that it’s importing.

When it finishes, Blaine laughs. All of the songs were on the playlist, for sure, but their icons were of tiny ghosts, and each song was titled “ _~it is a mystery~_ ”. Sam was going to make him work for it. It was probably a list of some of the worst and cheesiest songs in American history a la “The Macarena” and “Never Going to Give You Up,” anyway. He loads the playlist onto his phone all the same, but puts it on the back burner. He has a lot of theory homework to finish, and for him it’s basically impossible to study music and listen to music at the same time.

He’ll listen to it eventually.

———————————————

_come back and tell me why_

_i’m feeling like i’ve missed you all this time_

_\- everything has changed, taylor swift ft. ed sheeran -_

———————————————

The first song is actually not a Rick-Roll, but instead is Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. Blaine’s not surprised at all; he knows that Sam absolutely loves Taylor and has theory after theory about why she and Ed should and will eventually get married. He just wonders why “Everything Has Changed” is part of the mix, since Sam very well knows that Blaine knows this song by heart just as much as Sam does.

Still, he lets the music play through his earphones as he steps onto the subway. For once, it’s actually on time, and there doesn’t seem to be any particularly creepy people in the car he chooses. He finds a pole to grab for balance and stands, letting Taylor and Ed wash over him. 

As the subway pulls into the next stop, close to Blaine’s apartment but far enough and in a bad enough neighborhood that he chooses the subway whenever he can, he steps onto the platform and immediately gets a text from Sam.

_have you listened to the playlist yet?_

Blaine pauses the music and calls Sam instead of texting. Sam always says that he hates it when Blaine does that, but Blaine likes the immediacy of the conversation and not having to worry about looking down at his phone while he’s walking. And he misses Sam’s voice, and he thinks Sam misses his, too.

“Hey,” Sam says after the first ring.  
“Hey! I literally just started listening to it. I’ve just been crazy busy, and I had like ten pages of theory homework last night, and then everything was so hectic that I couldn’t even get coffee this morning, and-“

“What a tragedy,” Sam says, laughing, and for some reason it sounds like that kind of laugh that’s so full and rich because he was finally getting something off of his chest that had nothing to do with coffee.

“Hey. I’m just hoping I don’t turn into a monster later,” Blaine says. “Everything okay in Lima?”

“Yeah. It’s…yeah. Everything’s good.”

Blaine frowns at Sam’s hesitation. “And are _you_ doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sam says. Blaine doesn’t believe him, but they’ve been weird ever since he went back to Lima (or maybe since they moved to New York) and he’s not sure how to call him out over the phone. “Just…listen to the playlist, okay?”

“I will,” Blaine promises. “But later, I’ve got to go to class now. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. Have fun at class.”

Blaine hangs up, but stares at his phone for a second longer. He missed having Sam there with him. He missed getting to talk to him, _really_ talk to him. And he hoped Sam felt the same way.

———————————————

_i know love, and it’s all push and shove,_

_so stop talking and put your back into it_

_\- kiss quick, matt nathanson -_

———————————————

Blaine’s not sure if Sam just wanted to make him something relaxing or what, but a soft acoustic guitar song streams from his Bluetooth speaker and it fits perfectly with doing broga so he definitely doesn’t mind.

He breathes, in and out to the time of the song, and presses further into the strain of his arms, one leg grounded and the other lifted into the air in transition. Sunlight streams in from the open window, just at that perfect time of day where it’s not accidentally blinding him. He thinks of Sam, who used to do this on his own mat right next to him when they had the apartment to themselves, before they moved in with Mercedes. 

He thinks of Sam, and how so far the playlist he’d made had played three romantic songs back to back. He still hasn’t figured out what Sam intended with the mix he’d made; he knows it would probably be a lot easier if he ever just had time to sit down and _listen_ , but New York was more crazy than he could ever have expected. He loves it, he does, but he also loves having small moments of peace and quiet.

His first thought is that maybe Sam had made a surprise mix for the wedding - but between the new-love style of Taylor and Ed, and the angst of Matt Nathanson, it just doesn’t mesh. Unless that’s Sam’s idea of wedding music. But it definitely isn’t Blaine’s.

He then wonders if Sam is just trying to experiment with some new music tastes, but he definitely knows who Taylor freaking Swift is, and Blaine at least already knew of Matt Nathanson. 

Trying to formulate an idea around only three songs of a twelve-song playlist is hurting his brain. It would be a lot more helpful if Sam had just left the normal titles on the songs, but no.

His phone switches to the next song just as Blaine is reaching up, up, up onto his toes and clenching his knee into his chest, and it’s a pop beat and there are claps in the background and Blaine gives up. He collapses onto his mat, rolling over into “corpse pose” aka basically doing nothing, and lets his heartbeat slow as sweat rolls down the side of his face. The singers start, and Blaine groans.

More Ed Sheeran.

———————————————

_pack up and leave everything_

_don’t you see what i can bring_

_can’t keep this beating heart at bay_

_\- leave your lover, sam smith -_

———————————————

Sam Smith comes on, singing a song that Blaine knows because it breaks his heart, and he gets so angry that he nearly throws his phone against the wall.

Because now it makes _sense_. Love songs. Taylor _freaking_ Swift. Sam keeping everything a secret, Sam needing Blaine to talk to him once he’s actually listened to the playlist, because he _knows_ \- well, maybe not how Blaine will react, but he knows that Blaine _will_ react.

He’s so angry, because he can’t stand to be the one hurting his best friend, and Sam knows that too.

His laptop is open in front of him and he’s scrolling through is Facebook page, but he’s not seeing anything, not letting anything sink in except for the music streaming through his ears. He swipes up, swipes, swipes, and - hears a muffled noise through his earphones.

He hits pause on his keyboard and pulls out one earbud. “What?”

“I said, are you okay?” Kurt repeats, annoyed. He’s got a bowl of his dessert cereal thing that he eats in his hands as he stands by the counter, and Blaine should be endeared by getting to see Kurt in his more natural state. He used to. But natural, to Kurt, meant even more of…this. This weird kind of conversation where Blaine feels like he’s walking on ice.

“I’m fine.” He realizes then how hard he was breathing, how roughly he had been handling his Macbook. “It’s nothing.”

Kurt takes a last bite, then sets the bowl on the counter abruptly, letting the spoon clink against it loudly. “Okay. I’m going to bed.”

As Blaine watches him turn his back, he realizes how much he wanted Kurt - his fiancé, the man who he loves, the man who loves him - to actually reach out to him and dig under his skin, like a normal fiancé would. Or should.

“Kurt?”

Kurt turns halfway. “What?”

Blaine falters. “I…I’m going to stay up a little later.”

Kurt nods, as if to say that had been obvious.

“I’m going to Skype Sam,” Blaine adds.

“Just don’t be too loud,” Kurt says, then enters the bathroom to begin his nightly routine. Blaine quickly opened Skype as he heard _The Last Five Years_ coming from inside the bathroom. He figured he had about fifteen minutes to have a very important conversation.

———————————————

_We both have demons that we can’t stand_

_I love your demons, like devils can_

_\- like i can, sam smith -_

———————————————

“Have you listened to-“  
“Yes, I’ve listened,” Blaine hisses. Sam’s eyes widened, and Blaine can tell he’s not having the reaction Sam was hoping for. “Sam, what the hell? Why would you send that to me? Are you playing a prank on me?”

“No,” Sam says feebly, which only sends Blaine further into his spiral. In the back of his mind he’d hoped, prayed, that Sam was just playing some dumb trick, that this wasn’t real, that Sam wasn’t - didn’t - 

But it was real. And Blaine had absolutely no idea how to deal with it.

“What did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know,” Sam says. He looks so defeated, so stripped down, and so vulnerably honest that Blaine’s heart aches for him even as it rebels against letting Sam be in love with him. He felt like he was being pulled one way and another, being slammed into a wall each direction he went. “I just thought that you should know.”

“Everything is going to be different now.”

“I know.”

“I have no idea what to do.”

“Blaine,” Sam says, yearning. “I never wanted to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. But honestly, I just thought - I - I’m so sorry.”

And Blaine’s heart _breaks_.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Sam repeats. 

There’s a deafening moment of silence between them, only broken by Kurt chiming in to Norbert Leo Butz, entire worlds away. Sam wipes at his face, and Blaine really hopes he isn’t wiping away a tear that Blaine can’t see on the fuzzy stream.

“Have you listened to the whole playlist?” Sam asks.

Blaine shakes his head. “No. I didn’t get that far. I couldn’t.”

“Please. Please do. It…it would mean a lot to me.”

Blaine hesitates. “I-“

Blaine hears Kurt’s music slowing, and suddenly he knows he needs to get out of this conversation _now_ , or else he’s going to start crying from anger and confusion and hurt and _love_ and he won’t be able to stop.

“Kurt’s about to come out, I have-“

“Blaine-“

“I have to go.”  
“Blaine, please-“

But Blaine shuts his laptop before he can hear anything else. A tear escapes, and he wipes it away. He stands, hooks his charger into his laptop, and crawls into bed without changing his clothes. He faces away from the bathroom.

More tears leak onto the pillow.

_Everything is going to be different now_.

———————————————

_one night, he wakes, strange look on his face_

_pauses, and says ‘you’re my best friend’_

_and you knew what it was_

_he is in love_

_\- you are in love, taylor swift -_

———————————————

Blaine wakes in the middle of the night, the streets of New York no quieter than usual but their apartment still cloaked in darkness. It’s been three days since he’s talked to Sam. The only contact Sam has tried to make with him is a text, the morning after their fight, that read “ _i am so sorry._ ” If it were anyone else, Blaine might be more upset, but he knows that Sam is just trying to give him the space he needs. If he were to call at that very moment, he knows Sam would pick up, even though it’s 3 in the morning.

He considers it.

He pulls off the covers, which have gotten too hot overnight. Kurt fusses at his movement, but he doesn’t wake up. Blaine grabs his phone, unplugs his charger, and tiptoes into the living room.

Lack of sleep has become normal to Blaine over the past three nights. He hasn’t been sleeping well; he fidgets in bed, uncomfortable in his body and with his thoughts, and he can tell Kurt is thinking about kicking him out to the couch until whatever this is passes. As confused as he is, as much as he has been trying to push everything down, he misses Sam so much it aches. His heart has felt heavy for three days straight, and he can’t put words to it when anyone, especially Kurt, asks what’s wrong.

He looks at his phone screen, shining too bright in the darkness. He wants to call Sam.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he grabs his headphones off of the coffee table, plugs them in, and settles onto the couch where Sam used to sleep. He finally lets himself think about that. He finally lets himself finish the music where he’d left off.

Taylor Swift sings, about the little, perfect things that come when you fall in love with your best friend, and Blaine lets himself cry like he couldn’t before.

———————————————

_your touch, your skin, where do i begin?_

_no words can explain the way i’m missing you_

_\- lay me down, sam smith -_

———————————————

Kurt breaks up with Blaine.

He shouts, in the middle of New York, that maybe he doesn’t want to get married. And Blaine doesn’t understand. He did everything right. He worked so hard for Kurt’s forgiveness. He tried so hard to be the perfect fiancé, perfect _husband_ for Kurt. And it got him nowhere. He did _everything_ right.

Except for one thing.

And maybe that one thing was what was right all along.

Blaine packs a suitcase the second he gets back to his apartment. He’ll come back for all of his junk later, when he moves out for real. He hates New York City at this very moment, how all of it bleeds Kurt to him, how he’s never seen anything but Kurt in it - except for how much he’s wanted Sam by his side. But he knows he’ll return. Kurt is one person, and New York City is touched by millions of people. But right now, he needs to get the hell out.

He takes a taxi to the train station and just barely makes the 9:30 train to Columbus. It’s an eight hour ride, and he’s not really sure how he can last that long before finally seeing Sam’s face, but he knows it’s his best bet.

He turns on the music on his phone, and it automatically goes to the playlist. Blaine settles into his seat and smiles in a way that he hasn’t for a long time.

———————————————

_been here all along, so why can’t you see_

_you belong with me_

- _you belong with me, taylor swift -_

———————————————

Blaine knocks on Sam’s apartment door at seven in the morning. After a moment, the door opens under his fist, and Sam peeks out.

“Blaine?”

“I’m glad you made the playlist.”

Sam blinks. Blaine didn’t wake him up, he knows that by the toothpaste that Sam missed on his cheek, but he still has sleep in his eyes. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Blaine says, already leaning in toward the door. Sam steps back and pulls the door with him. He finally gets a good look at Blaine’s suitcase, and the surprise on his face grows.

Blaine walks all the way into Sam’s living room. Taking a tour is obviously not why he came here, but he has never been here, so he’s still curious. He can feel Sam hovering behind him though, so he repeats himself.

“I’m glad you made the playlist. For me. I forgive you, and I’m sorry I reacted so harshly.”

Sam scrubs his hand over his face. “You’re _glad_? But…why?”

Blaine takes a moment. He’s been waiting for this since high school. He’s been squashing it down inside him for over a year, but he knows now that it’s always been there.

“Because now I know I can do this.”

He steps forward, cupping his hand around Sam’s neck. He sees Sam’s eyes widen just before he presses their lips together.

It takes Sam a moment, but once the pieces fall into place, he grips Blaine’s waist tight and pulls him flush into Sam’s body. Blaine gasps into his mouth as Sam winds his arms around Blaine, loving the sensation of feeling so tiny, so _lost_ in Sam. He rises up onto his toes and wraps both his arms around Sam’s neck and kisses him until they can’t breathe anymore.

“What…” Sam tries to catch his breath. Blaine laughs, his breath catching on Sam’s lips. “What about Kurt?”

“Kurt…we’ll talk about that later. Not now. Just be with me now,” Blaine says. _Be with me forever,_ Blaine thinks.

And Sam does.

———————————————

_we’re on top of the world_

_we’re on top of the world now darlin', so don’t let go_

_\- be my forever, christina perri ft. ed sheeran_

———————————————

 

**Author's Note:**

> The full playlist, including some songs not mentioned in this fic, can be found [here.](http://cressdarnelthorne.tumblr.com/private/129253873250/tumblr_nustvyHyvf1qjfb45)


End file.
